


A More Accurate Fantasy

by floatingaway4



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingaway4/pseuds/floatingaway4
Summary: Henry and Alex go back to London for a visit.This takes place after There Must Be Dungeons, but you don't have to read that to get this one. You do need to know they have kids, who are mentioned in this story but I don't consider it a kidfic.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 18
Kudos: 144





	A More Accurate Fantasy

  
  


Alex studies his reflection in both full length mirrors, shoots his cuffs, and turns a little to either side. “This looks okay, right?” Since becoming an official royal spouse, Alex rates a person (possibly a butler, maybe an under butler? Alex can’t keep all the titles straight) who comes in to help him dress for formal palace events. It will never not feel weird to have a man help him dress (Henry is more about getting Alex _undressed_ ) but Alex is always kind and respectful. 

“You look very nice, sir.” Alex hasn’t worn a tux since their last royal event, so it’s been a while. He doesn’t love dressing up as much as he used to when he was younger, but he doesn’t mind. Henry is dressing in a room down the hall, probably with more people helping him. 

Henry and Alex had agreed to attend one formal dinner while they were in London this time. Alex was hoping to do some sightseeing too, even though it meant effectively shutting down the places they wanted to visit. Henry and the children were too much of a hot commodity here, and they didn’t want to expose the kids to the chaos. But Ellie has been begging to see if London Bridge is really falling down since they first told her about the trip. 

Ellie had whined a little about being left for the evening until she saw the palace nursery. “Jesus,” Alex had whistled, “it looks like a toy store exploded.” The sitters were sweet and fun and Ellie took to them immediately. She waved at her dads and started playing dress up with what looked to Alex like real jewelry. James, at that age where he’s happy with anyone who will hold him and feed him, didn’t seem to notice them leave. 

Stepping out of his dressing room, Alex meets Henry in the hallway. He absolutely does not drool when he sees his husband in formal wear. “You clean up good,” he says. 

“Likewise,” Henry winks. He’s fiddling with a cufflink and holds his arm out, wordlessly asking Alex for help. 

Alex fixes it and tugs Henry’s cuff. He leans in and runs a finger down Henry’s lapel. “We should go now,” he says, his voice a little ragged.

Henry looks surprised. “Are you telling me you’re actually anxious to get to a royal event?” 

“No,” Alex bites out,”I’m telling you that if we don’t go soon I’m going to find a quiet corner and tear that suit off you, piece by piece, Your Highness.” 

“Right!” Henry squeaks. “Shall we?” 

***

After a long night of small talk, good food, and a little too much wine, the dancing starts. Henry and Alex each dance with Bea, then politely dance with other guests before pairing up with each other. “You’re glowing,” Henry says with a sweet smile. “We should go out more when we’re home.” 

“It’s the alcohol,” Alex insists, shaking his head. “That and staring at a gorgeous guy all night.” But Henry knows that’s not entirely true. Alex has always absorbed energy from events like this, his magnetic personality flaring like an aura. 

Alex leans in. “You okay? We’ve done our duty. We can go if it’s too much.” 

Henry shakes his head and Alex looks at him doubtfully. “No, I’m fine.” He raises an arm to twirl Alex, surprising a laugh out of him. “Don’t get me wrong, I will never be, well, you,” Henry tells him. “But it’s...it’s so much nicer doing these things with you at my side.” Alex’s smile is genuine and pleased. “Also, thank you for running interference with Lady Wellington before.” Henry had been stuck in conversation with the older lady for so long that Alex had interrupted saying they needed to check on the kids. They’d left the room long enough to call the sitter and then make out in a corner for a few minutes before returning to find her droning on at some other hapless victim. 

“At your service, Your Royal Highness,” Alex says, bowing his head with a mischievous grin. He still gets a kick out of the deferential treatment he and Henry get from Palace staff, even though they both prefer the informality of their life in New York. 

After a few more dances, the party winds down and they are driven back to Kensington. Once in the back seat they immediately loosen their ties and unbutton their collars. A young woman waiting at the door tells them the children are asleep in the nursery and the night nurse is staying with them there. As they walk toward their rooms, Alex catches Henry’s sleeve. “Hey, can we, um, can we go somewhere first?” 

Henry nods. “Where?” 

When Alex tells him, Henry’s grin is broad and delighted. “It’s this way.” 

***

Henry flips on the hallway light and stands aside, gesturing for Alex to enter. He watches as Alex steps slowly into the darkened kitchen of the guest quarters where he stayed his first night in the palace. 

The memories come rushing back and take Alex by surprise. Most of all, he remembers how he felt, angry at being forced to be Henry’s fake friend, resentful at losing out on a free weekend at home. Angry at himself, because, really, this was all his own doing. 

He hops up to sit on the counter and turns his head to see Henry still in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the door jamb, watching him thoughtfully. 

And the images collide and combine in Alex’s still-buzzed brain, flashes of fuzzy memory, only vivid and real because they are connected to this specific place. And he’s seeing Henry from the past, young and vulnerable and unsure--really just a boy in a man’s body--superimposed over Henry now, confident and smiling at him. Content and secure in who he is, in who they are to each other. An outspoken, unflinching advocate. The father of Alex’s children. Flashes back to the boy in pajamas, then to the man in the stupidly expensive tux, bow tie dangling around his neck. Alex wants to hug one of them and do very dirty things to the other. 

Henry quirks an eyebrow at him from the doorway. 

Alex shrugs. “I just wanted to see it. I don’t know what made me think of it,” he explains, as much to himself as to Henry. 

Henry nods and steps slowly across the room, his dress shoes clicking sharply against the tile, and comes to stand in front of Alex. “I came in for ice cream,” he remembers, reaching out to rub his palms slowly up and down Alex’s thighs. 

“Cornettos,” they say in unison. At the time, Alex had never heard of them. But since Henry found an international grocery in New York that carries them, they’ve become Ellie’s favorite dessert too. 

Alex nods. “Midnight snack.” 

“Stress eating,” Henry corrects. “I had gone from minding my own business at my brother’s wedding to being forced to interact not only with the public but with someone who loathed the very sight of me. Philip was so angry he yelled at me for three days straight. And I had to figure out how to hide the inconvenient fact that I was totally besotted with you.” He tucks a sweaty curl behind Alex’s ear. “I’d probably finished off the Jaffa Cakes already.” 

Alex’s voice is quiet, almost reverent, in the dark room. “What else did we talk about? I can’t remember. I remember being mad--”

“Well, you were always mad at me then, so that’s a safe bet.” Alex gives him a smarmy eye roll but can’t deny it. Henry shakes his head, searching his memory. “I don’t...oh, you took a picture for Instagram.” 

Alex brightens. “Yeah! And you wanted to, like, run through what we were going to say the next day during our interview.” 

Henry shrugs, his hands still skimming lightly up and down Alex’s thighs. “I don’t remember that but I’m sure I did.” He stares off at a point somewhere behind Alex’s head. Alex gives him time. “I was always afraid of things like that. That I would say or do the wrong thing and people would _know_ about me.” There’s something else behind Henry’s eyes, so Alex rests a hand over one of Henry’s, and waits. 

“I thought, I thought that was why you hated me.” 

Alex’s brain shorts out. “What?” 

Henry’s gaze seems to travel a million miles before it finally comes back to land on Alex’s face. “I thought, maybe, you knew I was gay, and...I don’t think I thought you were homophobic, exactly, I just….” Henry shrugs helplessly at his husband’s stunned face. “All I really knew about America was that there were, there _are_ places where gay people aren’t welcome, and certain religions aren’t as accepting. Just like here, really. And you were from the South and Catholic and I…” 

“Jesus, baby,” Alex says, slowly shaking his head. “I didn’t even know...and that never even...I would never--”

“No, I realized that pretty quickly, especially after the next day when you told me it was about me being an arsehole in Rio, but also just about the fact that I was a prince.” Henry takes a deep breath. “Actually, finding out your hatred was of the more general variety was oddly reassuring at the time,” Henry admits with a bemused smile. 

And Alex wants to weep at the idea that the love of his life spent three years feeling that way about him, about himself. Fearful and defensive and unsure. Because even if Alex never judged Henry for a second, other people did, even people in Henry’s own family. 

He wraps his arms around his husband’s neck and pulls him close. It makes his head spin to know that this man believed for so long that he was unworthy of love. “I’m so sorry you thought that, felt like that. I...I don’t know what else to say.” 

After a minute, Henry straightens and shakes his head. Swipes at his eyes. “Water under the bridge,” he says. 

“London Bridge?” Alex says, just to get a laugh and an eye roll out of Henry. It works. 

Alex remembers something else and reaches up to cup Henry’s face. “Besides, I could hardly judge you on something I didn’t even know. I was pretty clueless back then.” 

“Thick,” Henry corrects him. 

“Thick,” Alex repeats with a laugh. “Did I ever tell you who told me? Well, besides you, when you stuck your tongue down my throat.” 

Henry tilts his head questioningly. 

“Nora.” 

That causes a real laugh to burst out of Henry. “How in bloody hell did she know?” 

Alex shrugs. “She analyzed the situation, like she does everything else, and concluded that you were gay. But to be fair, she knew you had kissed me so she had some strong data points.” Alex lays a hand on top of one of Henry’s again, where it rests just above Alex’s knee. “She’s also the one who told me I had to make the next move.” 

“Ah,” Henry says, “I knew I liked her. Remind me to shower her with gifts when we get home.” 

They’re quiet for a minute, each lost in different memories, until Henry reaches out to stroke Alex’s neck, run his fingers down the exposed skin. “You are so beautiful.” They kiss, sweet and slow and unhurried. “That's probably why I don’t remember much about that night. I was just trying not to swoon at you.” He buries his nose in Alex’s hair. “Or get caught staring too long.” 

“Is that why you took off back to your room?” 

Henry shrugs, “Probably. Safer there. But I also had, err, things to take care of.” 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Things?” 

Henry’s voice is soft in the dark. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.” He rubs his hands up Alex’s thighs again, with a little more pressure than before. “I do distinctly remember returning to my room, face planting on the bed, and telling David I’d made a complete git of myself and it was no wonder you hated me.” He smiles at Alex, flushing from a combination of alcohol and actual embarrassment. “I came up with several witty and brilliant things I should have said,” he whispers, “and then I, err, may have, um, you know...thinking about you.” 

Alex grins back at him. “You know you’re adorable when you try to talk dirty.” 

Anyway,” Henry continues pointedly, “at least the fantasy was more accurate then. Every time after that, when I imagined you, you had your glasses on.” 

“Got a lot of mileage out of that fantasy, did you?” Alex can’t help but look pleased with himself. 

“Indeed,” Henry says, his huge hands moving to slide up Alex’s back. His voice lowers to a dark, dizzying growl that makes Alex squirm. “Until the reality suddenly became so much better than the fantasy.” 

Alex opens his legs so he can pull Henry’s body in closer. He slides his hands up Henry’s lapels, then under them, skimming up to his shoulders. In one swift move, he pushes Henry away just long enough to lift his suit jacket off. Henry cooperatively drops his arms so the jacket lands in a heap on the floor behind him and then moves back between Alex’s legs. Even after all this time, Alex still enjoys messing him up. 

“So much better, huh?” 

Henry stops nuzzling behind Alex’s ear to murmur in agreement. “Absolutely. Although I will say, Fantasy Alex definitely ran his mouth less when we made out.” 

Alex fakes an indignant look before resting his head on Henry’s shoulder, inhaling sweat and cologne and a scent that is so specifically identifiable to Alex as “home” that he’s sure he could pick it out blindfolded. 

They’re quiet again for a bit. Alex wonders, not for the first time, what would've happened if he’d bothered to get to know Henry earlier, if things could have been different. It’s a gut punch, every time he realizes how close they came to never having what they have. 

“We wasted so much time, babe,” he whispers, as much to himself as to Henry. 

Henry shakes his head. “I like to think we’re making up for it. And it all worked out in the end,” Henry says with an impish grin. But his eyes are shiny with tears. He knows how lucky they are too. 

“Yep. One international political sex scandal later, we upend the monarchy and all live happily ever after.” Alex rests his hands on Henry’s shoulders as he slides off the counter. “Speaking of our happily ever after, we should go check on the kids.” 

Henry snags his jacket from the floor with one finger and slings it over his shoulder. The light from the hall hits his white shirt just enough for Alex to see the outline of his biceps. Alex just stares for a second, then shakes his head. “Besotted,” he whispers to himself, as they walk out of the still dark room. 

They check in with the sitter and decide not to risk moving two sleeping children to their own rooms. Back in the hallway, Henry pulls Alex in for a long, sweet kiss. “Now, I believe you said something about taking me out of the rest of this suit, one piece at a time?” 

Alex takes Henry’s hand and lifts it to his lips. They amble down the hallway, fingers dancing within each other’s grasp. 

“Want me to put my glasses on?” 

Henry rolls his eyes and shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case anyone is wondering....I kind of like the idea that their memories are imperfect. They don't have the book to refer back to like we do :-)


End file.
